


Take on the World

by kaiaced



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Road Trips, Romance, Running Away, background kenhina heh, background kurodai - Freeform, bokuaka are not soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25506763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiaced/pseuds/kaiaced
Summary: [soulmate au! bokuto kōtarō x akaashi keiji] "We are the protagonists of the world," Bokuto would often remind him of his lines. But he finds that hard to believe, especially when fate says otherwise. Because even if he alters the direction to where the earth spins, it will not change the fact that the initials tattooed on his skin aren't Bokuto's.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	Take on the World

**_Upon meeting your soulmate, you will experience pain over the tattooed initials on your skin. And when the two of you are apart, the ink will sporadically sting_** — ** _almost insufferably._**

"Do you ever think we should just stop doing this?"

Akaashi's words take Bokuto by surprise, his foot immediately slamming on the brakes at the glow of the red traffic light. He whips his head towards the passenger seat, his forearms resting against the steering wheel, "Is it because we circled the same highway five times?" Bokuto asks.

Akaashi blinks at him, confusedly, "Pardon?"

Bokuto hunches his back with a pout on his face, "Keiji, we're already in Hyōgo. We can't go back now. Traffic signs confuse me."

"...Oh," Akaashi mutters, turning his attention back to the road in front of them, "Right."

The stoplight flickers into a green, prompting Bokuto to accelerate the car again, aimlessly driving through streets. Trees lined up the sidewalk, the abundant shades of orange rust and burning red flitting the October wind.

Akaashi turns his stare to his lap, fiddling with his fingers mindlessly. Almost nine hours have passed since they left the bustling metropolis of Tokyo. Fueled by convenience store instant coffee and greasy fast-food meals, Bokuto has been driving for the two lost souls. Which made sense why his answers lacked enthusiasm and comprehension—Akaashi too, he couldn't even formulate the words his lover told him just a minute ago.

Soft tunes from Akaashi's jazz vinyl playlist hums in the background, letting his mind wander off from the question he suddenly blurted out. It just slipped out of his mouth, but for some strange reason, he yearns for his boyfriend's answer.

He unconsciously releases a soft sigh, letting his head fall back to the seat, his eyes scanning the endless road.

Bokuto catches his expression, darting his gaze from the street to the male sitting beside him. "Is everything alright?" He asks.

As if programmed, Akaashi nodded, followed by a soft mumble of "Yes." 

Weariness washed over them, their bodies are sore and their legs catching pins and needles after spending half of the day running away from their homes. Akaashi flutters his eyes closed, his lips slightly parting in an attempt to relax despite Bokuto's ragged driving. The scent of the lemony air freshener mixing with the stained cigarette smoke permeated the car, wafting through his nostrils. He took steady breaths, his fingertips grazing against the fabric of his jeans.

The car slowly halts, and Akaashi assumed that they met another red light along the way. Before he can flutter his eyes open, Bokuto takes his right hand by his lap and bringing the knuckles to his lips. Akaashi widens his eyes at the touch of his lover's calloused hands and the warm brush of his lips against his skin. He turns his head to the driver's seat, a faint blush tinting his cheeks at the endearing action.

Bokuto withdraws his hand away from him, turning to examine his wrist. "This ink," he begins, pressing his lips again at the black tattoo ingrained on Akaashi's skin, "Means nothing to me, Keiji," he finishes, intertwining their fingers together. The corner of Akaashi's lips tugs upward, his eyes softening at the sight of his boyfriend.

He nods, "Of course, Kōtarō."

Bokuto places his hand on top of the gear shift, with Akaashi's underneath his. Seconds ticked to minutes, sitting in silence with Bokuto's occasional chatters and their hands weaved together. Despite the creeping fears in his system, Akaashi could get used to this. With the sunlight peeking through the thick clouds, streaming through the windshield, his collection of jazz music streaming in the background, and his boyfriend's animated jabber—he wouldn't mind being like this forever.

"Ow!"

But of course, fate had other plans.

Bokuto snatched his left hand away from the gear shift, balling his fist and pressing it against his lips in pain. Akaashi followed suit, immediately turning his body to him, his brows furrowed in worry, "Is it back?" He asked.

Bokuto could only muster a nod, his knuckles turning white from his grip, his teeth sinking onto his skin. "How long do I have to wait until I could take another painkiller?" He asked, almost whining, his eyes staring at the road. Akaashi hitches his glasses as he shoots a glance to his wristwatch, _20:24_ it blinked.

"Another fifteen minutes, Kōtarō," he said. Bokuto nodded, removing his hand from his mouth and letting it fall back to the gear shift. Akaashi sighed, "We should stop by a near gasoline station so we can get you some food too."

Bokuto huffs, "Convenience store food again?"

"Well, you can't take medicine on an empty stomach," he reasons, shifting his eyes to the window, his hands tapping on the fabric of his jeans again. The other male chuckles, "That's true."

* * *

High school was as fleeting as he could remember. There were myriad volleyball practices, several competitions, and innumerable academic activities.

And as well as some students who would go lengths in pursuit of their soulmate.

Akaashi regularly heard this story ever since his childhood from his grandfather. It was to the point where he memorized the poem word-per-word.

_"In a sea of nameless faces,_

_Two souls are linked by the ink of their skin._

_But beware of a stranger's grace,_

_For it is a profound sin_

_To wed someone whose fate did not attach your mark with."_

He would internally laugh every time his grandfather mentions the story. First, the poem sounds like an eighth-grader wrote it hurriedly for their English class, but his grandfather would often protest that it was a generational story. Second, he found the concepts of soulmates ridiculous. That just sounds like forcefully tying someone down just because everyone else is doing it. Thus, he never initiated the quest to look for his soulmate.

His classmates and teammates would often ask him the initials tattooed on his wrist. He would purse his lips and flash his skin to them with a blank expression, and their eyes would often light up at the cursive letters printed. More often than not, his teammates, especially Konoha Akinori and Sarukui Yamato, would exchange wary glances at each other.

Akaashi would ask why.

Konoha would then proceed to ask, "What about Bokuto?"

Despite being their dirty little secret, their teammates would pick up their behavior. No matter how small. He would often brush them off, telling them that they are merely teammates and good friends.

But Akaashi knows better.

Regardless of his forceful efforts of trying to maintain their relationship as a setter to spiker, senpai to kouhai, teammate to teammate, he would always find himself gravitating towards Bokuto. He's clueless as to why, and Bokuto doesn't seem to mind the cursive letters "MH" tattooed on his skin either. It's only a matter of time where he would stop denying his attachment to the team's captain. Upon realizing that his feelings would only grow fonder each time he tries to drift away from Bokuto, he didn't try to fight against it anymore. Instead, he chose to ride the waves, notwithstanding the consequences of linking with someone who is not his soulmate.

"We are the protagonists of the world, right?" Bokuto would often remind him of his lines, "We'll take on the world." But he finds that hard to believe, especially when fate says otherwise. Because even if he alters the direction to where the earth spins, it will not change the fact that the initials tattooed on his skin aren't Bokuto's.

* * *

Akaashi takes a long hard stare on his wrist, the cursive letters almost burning at the intensity of his glower. If he perceives Bokuto as someone unpredictable, he considers the mark to his soulmate as an enigma. He doesn't even know this person yet, and still, the universe dares to declare that he has to spend the eternity with the stranger inked on his skin. That is beyond ridiculous, Akaashi would always think.

What if he doesn't like the eating habits of his soulmate?

What if his soulmate is rude and doesn't respect his privacy?

What if they often use their cellular device to the extent that it was disrespectful?

What if his soulmate is emotionally or physically manipulative and abusive?

Will the universe take responsibility for whatever trauma he may get from staying with his supposed other half?

He places his fingertips to his temples, massaging the throbbing pain. Whenever these questions occupy his mind, a horrible migraine would often plague him afterward. He might need to take painkillers along with Bokuto as well.

He leans his head back to the seat and glances at Bokuto through the corner of his eyes. Bokuto seemed distracted enough from driving and biting the painful sensation off from his wrist. Akaashi's lips tugged downward at the sight of his lover in pain. He doesn't know how to help him out. He doesn't even know how agonizing being apart from his soulmate feels—as one would expect from someone who hasn't met his soulmate yet.

But he heard it from Kuroo Tetsurō when they were at the Tokyo Training Camp. Apparently, Kuroo's soulmate turned out to be Karasuno's captain, Sawamura Daichi. He only found that out when Nekoma traveled hundreds of miles to Miyagi whereas they met for a practice match. When Kuroo and his soulmate faced each other, Kuroo described it as 'excruciatingly painful.' The two wrenched their wrists hard to counter the pain, and their whole teams could only do so much as stare at their captains writhing in affliction.

Akaashi asked him to explain how it felt—meeting his soulmate. Kuroo said that meeting Sawamura felt like tons of pins and needles pricking and piercing into his wrist. However, it didn't feel like someone was slicing his skin open, it's more like the fates were trying to alert him that his soulmate is in front of him by stabbing him with thorns. Then Bokuto asked him about pain tolerance if you wouldn't feel anything when your immunity to pain is high. Kuroo said that pain tolerance didn't matter because he explained that he did have a high one, and yet when he met Sawamura, pain coursed through his veins. 

Same with his best friend, Kozume Kenma. Although he did have standard pain tolerance, it was difficult for him when he met Hinata Shōyō.

It didn't help that Kuroo and Sawamura were also in a long-distance relationship, he said. When two soulmates are apart, the tattoos in their skin would often sporadically ache as a sign. To counter that, Kuroo and Sawamura often find themselves video chatting at their most convenient times.

To Akaashi, it only seemed troublesome for him—for his wrist to be in erratic pain when he's not with his soulmate and to experience excruciating ache when meeting them.

What if he's in the midst of a volleyball game when his tattoo decides to act up? Or perhaps halfway through editing his colleague's project? He wouldn't take it. Oh, how he wishes to never meet his soulmate ever in his waking days. It's already heart-wrenching to witness his lover, Bokuto, to experience it. He doesn't want to add along to the baggage between the two of them. After all, their relationship isn't in the norm, if the fates decide to add to their burden, then he wouldn't know if the two of them could make it.

He shakes his head, refusing to even think about having to tear apart from Bokuto. Their passion for each other is already enough for them to face the world head-on.

That's what they are doing, after all, defying the universe and the fates by running away.

But will running away suffice?

He has yet to hear stories about two lovers escaping the tight grasps of destiny. Wouldn't it be outrageous though—for them to challenge the gods that declare their futures?

No matter what side Akaashi thinks, foiling the plans that the heavens have plotted seems like a terrible idea—even if he throws himself through the narrow hole of a needle, the result will always be their threads connecting to a different person.

Changing the course of their fate will only worsen for both of them, as well as for their soulmates.

"Keiji, we're here."

But what else is there to do? He loves Bokuto, isn't that enough reason for them to be together? Why do the Fates insist on tearing them apart? Why do they have different initials tattooed on their skin? If Akaashi was born a year earlier, would his initials get inked on Bokuto's? If they had met way before high school, is there a chance that they would share the same intertwined thread of fate?

"Keiji?"

Why do these thoughts haunt his mind more often now? Is this heaven's way of saying that they stop running away and live separately? He couldn't take it, he can't possibly live without Bokuto, right?

"Keiji!"

Akaashi flinches, snapping out of his thoughts. He darts his gaze to the window beside him and the windshield, noticing that they are in a complete rest on a gasoline station.

"You're getting yourself lost in your thoughts again," Bokuto says.

He turns to his lover with lips parting and slightly wide eyes, still dazed from his recent reasoning. "S-Sorry," he muttered, noticing the deep wrinkles between Bokuto's eyebrows and his small frown from his anxiety.

Great, now he feels guilty.

Bokuto places a hand on his shoulder, worriedly, "Are you okay, Keiji? What are you thinking about?" He gently asks as if not wanting to step on a landmine. At times like this, Akaashi tends to have a whirlpool of emotions, and Bokuto doesn't want to trigger his lover's worries.

Akaashi presses his lips together and hesitantly nods, placing a hand on top of Bokuto's on his shoulder, "I am."

Bokuto laughs breathily, taking his shivering hand into his lap and squeezing it comfortingly against his warm ones, "Okay, I'm happy," he replies. Akaashi always knew that Bokuto's smile is contagious, and between the two of them, he would often find himself grinning with his lover. "Don't worry about me, Kōtarō. I was just thinking about the same things," Akaashi assured.

"Same things?" Bokuto asked, tilting his head to the side, "You mean those horrible bad things in your head about us?"

Akaashi nodded, his soft smile stretching across his face, feeling his anxieties dissolve from Bokuto's touch. Bokuto pouted for a split-second before he transitioned it to a wide toothy grin, "You know that you don't have to pay attention to those things, right?" He chirped, squeezing his hands assuringly, "Besides, we're together now! No one can take that away from us, Keiji!"

Akaashi feels his heart hammering against his ribcage, a small blush tinting his cheeks. They have been together for so many years now, and yet the passion and admiration for him still intensifies.

"You're right, Kōtarō. I don't understand why I'm so worried all the time," he says, curling his fingers around the palm of his hand. Bokuto reaches to the side of his face with his free hand, his digits threading through his dark locks, "It's okay, Keiji! I understand why you would be so worried. All I have to do is to remind you that I love you, right?"

Akaashi freezes at his words, his heart skipping a beat. How could Bokuto treat this so lightly while he frets over the situation like there's no tomorrow? He doesn't know, for Bokuto always surprises him with all the love that he has for him. Akaashi leans his head against Bokuto's forearm, his eyes fluttering close, "I love you too, Kōtarō," he says, nuzzling his cheek against his skin.

Bokuto grins, leaning forward to his seat, pulling Akaashi's head closer to him, and pressing a long, sloppy, and loud kiss on his forehead. Akaashi lightly giggles at the impact, as Bokuto pulls away and wipes off his saliva from Akaashi's skin with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Soulmates are a thing of the past! We will create our own story!" He says gleefully, tousling his lover's hair.

"Of course, Kōtarō," Akaashi replies.

"Now, let's go! I'll fill up the gas," Bokuto says, removing himself from Akaashi and unbuckling his seatbelt. Akaashi does the same, snatching his wallet from the glove compartment, "I'll buy us some food at the convenience store, would you like anything in particular?" Akaashi asks.

"Nothing! As long as it follows my meal plan and calorie intake, Keiji. Thank you!" He replies before they exit the car.

Akaashi circles around the vehicle, giving a short wave to Bokuto before entering the convenience store. A loud chime reverberates the walls as he pushes the glass door open, the middle-aged male cashier greets his presence cheerfully. He nods to him before weaving through the store, eyes scanning at each rack that he comes across.

As much as he loves to take several chips and candies for the rest of the journey, he knows it wouldn't be suitable for his lover's lifestyle. After all, Bokuto will be joining a volleyball team in Japan's V. League, not to mention his team is a top-tier of Division 1. It's only sensible for him to take extra care of his lover's health, watching his food and liquid intake, and that he is in his top shape every day.

However, with the recent events that circulate between the two of them, he's not so sure if Bokuto is in his 100% today. Especially when they left Tokyo in a hurry, with little to no sleep, and nine hours of driving on the road with no specific place to stay. They didn't have any plans, all they know is that they have to get away from Bokuto's soulmate, Akaashi's family, and from all the people that knows them. They want to go to a place where no one can identify them, like ghosts wandering in search of their lost realm.

They don't know when to come back, but they both know they shouldn't take long since Bokuto and Akaashi still has to make a living. Their whole lives rely on the city of Tokyo—and they are not yet ready to sacrifice all of what they have worked in pursuit of freedom.

Akaashi glances at the cursive letters inked on his skin, his jaw clenching in frustration. He balls his fist, muttering curses under his breath. He hates that he has to live in a society where soulmates exist and one must stay with theirs, in order not to break the system. If they don't, the thread will get all tangled up, and they would be the ones to blame.

Akaashi hates that he has to argue with his parents just for them to accept that their son is in love with someone that isn't his soulmate. He hates that Bokuto has to be in pain whenever he's afar from his soulmate, and he can't do anything about it.

Most importantly, he hates the cursive letters 'MO' tattooed on his wrist. He prays to whoever God above that's listening that he may never meet this bastard.

He takes the healthy meals displayed on the shelves, grabbing a few water bottles, and his boyfriend's favorite energy drink to keep him active for the rest of the drive. He walks to the counter, greeting the cashier, and placing the food on top.

"Ah, I see that you're off on a drive, aren't you, young man?" The cashier asks cheerfully. Akaashi didn't mind striking up a conversation, nodding in response as he rummages through his wallet for a bill. The worker scans each item with ease, "Do you need any suggestions for the tourist attractions? The hot spring is a sought-after spot for lovers. Temples are also quite a charm for soulmates to go to when they need good luck for their life-long partnership."

Akaashi shakes his head, "Thank you, but the food is enough for us to keep us going." He says it with slight humor in his tone, eliciting a chuckle from the cashier, "Is that so?"

Akaashi nods, watching him bag their food and drinks while readily handing him the bill to pay. The cashier takes the money, computing it with the computer cashier, and says, "If you need some good food, I recommend you to go to the shop right across the street." He points a finger out, and Akaashi follows the direction.

He catches the brand new and bold sign, _Onigiri Miya._

"The shop is run by a young local around here. Their family is quite well-known in this area too. You must try their rice balls, young man! While it's still not yet rush hour, you go ahead to their shop and buy some from them," the cashier said, handing Akaashi his change.

Akaashi almost let out a scoff after finding himself staring a little too long at the sign, "Is this some sort of affiliated advertisement, sir?" He asks.

The cashier laughs, "No, no! I just know the owner and their family for ages. It wouldn't do any harm if I help out a new starting business, 'no?"

Akaashi slowly turns his head back to the cashier, nodding hesitantly, "Right." He takes the plastic bag in hand, shoving his wallet back to his pocket.

"I promise you, young man. Try out their rice balls! You would _not_ regret it!" The cashier convinces, and Akaashi only nods in response.

As he exits the convenience store, he finds his gaze lingering on the store sign a second too long. He tears his stare away from the establishment, pacing towards the vehicle. Bokuto stands beside the silver Honda Civic, his arms waving in the air excitedly with a wide grin plastered on his face when he sees Akaashi.

"Kōtarō, I bought us some food," he speaks as he nears the car. "Thanks, Keiji! I filled the car already, do you want to go now?" Bokuto asked. Akaashi halts his steps, and his mouth opens, "Would you like some rice balls, Kōtarō?" He blurts. His eyes slightly widen at the words that fall out of his lips, his heart wildly thumping against his chest.

"Oh, you saw that too, huh?" Bokuto says, turning his head to the shop across the street, "I think some rice balls would be great for snacks!"

Akaashi nervously shifts his weight on his other foot, "Would you like me to get some?"

"Sure, sure! I'll stay here in the car. Here, let me have the food, I'll put them inside," Bokuto says, taking the plastic bags from his hold. Akaashi releases his grip, gulping down the lump forming in his throat, he shakily asks, "Is there anything you'd like in particular?"

Bokuto ponders for a minute with a hand pressed on his chin while he hums. "I can't think of any! You can choose something for me, Keiji!" He says, and Akaashi only nods.

"A-Alright. I'll be quick," he replies before walking towards the shop. "Be safe!" His lover comments before he enters the car, bringing the engine to life, and parking the vehicle to the side of the gasoline station.

Beads of sweat form on the side of Akaashi's face despite the chilly weather, his hands trembling, and he swears he could hear his heartbeat pulsating against his ribcage. A thick lump is stuck on his throat, and he can't seem to get rid of it. He has zero ideas about why crossing the street to get to a rice ball shop makes him so antsy and fidgety. His movements are sluggish, and his anxiety heightens his senses, taking him a long time to reach the establishment than what is supposed to be.

As soon as he faces the store, he glances from the inside, with his clammy hands grabbing his coat. He knows he doesn't have to do this, but Bokuto wants some rice ball, he has to at least cater it to him. Besides, there is no reason for him to be on edge. He inhales a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut, and pushing open the glass doors.

"Welcome!"

The loud bell chimes ring his ears, almost annoyingly with his enhanced senses. He shoves his hands down the pockets of his coat, turning his heel around and walking to the counter. His eyes dart to every corner of the place, eyeing the interior.

The establishment is clear that it's run by a family of some sort, with the rustic colors and cozy feeling permeating in the air. There were four small tables on each side of the shop, with two chairs across each other. He faces towards the counter, mustering a small smile towards the cashier.

 _"This isn't so bad, after all. What was I so worried about?"_ Akaashi asks himself.

"What would you like to order today, sir?" The girl on the counter asks, with her long dark hair tied in a ponytail, sporting a white apron over her black shirt, and a black cap with the shop's logo embroidered on the front. She looks too young to be the owner of the shop. She must be in her senior year of High School, Akaashi thought.

Akaashi travels his gaze to the displayed rice balls in the glass container, considering what to order for him and his lover. "Our best-seller for this season is the spicy cucumber, sure to heat you under this freezing weather!" The cashier chirped, her hands motioning to the second row of rice balls.

Akaashi hums, slowly nodding. "Is that so? Then can I have two salmon, pickled plum, and spicy cucumber?" He said, hitching his eyeglasses up. The girl nods, "Sure! Right away, sir!" She chirps, carrying out her duty. "Thank you," he manages, watching her work. His eyebrows twitch at the sudden light poking on his flesh. Then his smile fades, and his face flashes a scowl when he feels a tingling sensation in his wrist, then turning into an itch. His hand flies to his right one, his fingernails scratching over the tattoo.

As soon as she places the rice balls inside the plastic bag while Akaashi hands the exact amount over the counter, a deep voice from inside the shop speaks, albeit muffled, "Ishida-san, it's okay I'll take over from here."

Akaashi peeks over to the back, his brows knitting at the sound of the voice while continuing to scratch away the itch. "Oh, Osamu-san! You're here! Thank you, but I'll just finish this one customer's order," the girl says, turning behind. Akaashi clicks his tongue in irritation when his wrist turns to sting, his gaze dropping to the tattoo, roughly grazing over the ink in annoyance.

"It's no problem, Ishida-san," the male speaks again, his voice clearer. And just before Akaashi could whip his head toward the counter, invisible sharp edges prick his wrist over the cursive letters 'MO', making him grab his forearm in shock.

A loud thud from the other side of the counter resonates, followed by a low grunt and breathing in between gritted teeth.

"O-Osamu-san! Are you okay?!" The girl exclaims.

Akaashi is too busy gripping on his arm, clenching his jaw, and avoiding letting out unnecessary noises to take a look at the commotion in front of him. Numerous unseen needles pierce through his wrist, his breathing is heavy and erratic, and his knuckles are turning white at his attempts to restrain the pain.

Then, it clicks to him.

"W-Wait, Osamu?" He mumbles to himself, whipping his head to the direction of the counter. His gaze catches the widened stare of a tall male with a large build, his lips agape, and his stormy gray eyes darting towards Akaashi's face and wrist.

Another set of thousands of thorns puncturing his flesh is washing over Akaashi, making him dig his fingernails to his skin, his brows furrowed, and his teeth biting his bottom lip in sheer frustration. The said Osamu does the same as if he feels a similar stabbing sensation on his tattoo. The girl from before merely watches the scene unravel before her, his hands flailing in panic.

Osamu takes a step outside the counter, clutching on his left wrist, "Y-You're my soulmate?" He asks, standing a few feet away from Akaashi. The latter takes a step back, narrowing his gaze at the male, "W-Wha—" he stammers, making him screw his eyes shut and shake his head to compose himself.

He looks up at Osamu again, "What's your name?" He shakily asks, eyeing him from up and down.

Osamu clears his throat, the pricking sensation slowly vanishing. "O-Osamu," he begins, his voice cracking, "Miya Osamu."

Akaashi darts his eyes to his wrist as if trying to make sure that the initials on his skin aren't—as if he hasn't memorized the two letters that grace him.

**_MO._ **

Akaashi clicks his tongue, shaking his head profusely in disbelief, his glare sending daggers to his tattoo despite the persisting pain.

 _"No, no, no! I shouldn't be here any longer! I knew I shouldn't have come here! I already have Kōtarō! I can't stay_ — _"_

"W-What about yours? A...K?" Osamu asks, reaching out to his soulmate. Akaashi realizes his actions, flinching, and inching away from him. But his reflexes have rusted through the years, and Osamu only seems to be eager to get ahold of Akaashi.

His hand snatches Akaashi's left wrist, and time slows.

Both their breathing has calmed, and the pain from their wrists beginning to dull. His heart tugs at something. He could feel Osamu's calloused fingers against his skin, his fingertips brushing tenderly through the tattoo. The various tones from the shop turn vivid. He could feel his own body hauling itself closer to Osamu. His chest tightens and expands.

He averts his gaze from his wrists, slowly turning to meet Osamu's eyes. His breath catches in his throat at the contact. The once storm gray pools transitioned into calm, gleaming silvery optics.

Akaashi feels his lips slightly parting, "I'm your soulmate," he mutters, sinking into the trance.

Osamu slowly nods.

"Akaashi," he softly says, his name slowly rolling off his tongue.

"Akaashi...?" Osamu asked, waiting patiently for his first name.

"Akaashi Ke—"

_"Besides, we're together now! No one can take that away from us, Keiji!"_

He freezes midway, realizing his actions, and his eyes turning owlish by the chain of events. His gaze is quickly darting from one corner to another of the shop.

_"What am I doing!?"_

"Akaashi...?" Osamu asked carefully, noticing that Akaashi broke the romantic spell of touch between soulmates.

Akaashi frowns, yanking his hand away from Osamu's grasp, the bright colors from earlier slowly fading into normality, "I apologize, Miya-san, but I must go," he murmurs while snatching the plastic bag of rice balls from the counter.

"Go? But you just got here," Osamu asks, his brows furrowed as he stares at his soulmate with a puzzled look.

"Akaashi-san? Where are you going?" Osamu desperately asks.

Akaashi turns his heel, tugging his coat close to his chin, "Thank you for your service," he continues, dashing towards the exit.

"Wait! Akaashi-san!" Osamu exclaims, reaching out to Akaashi. But before he knows it, Akaashi is already by the door. Osamu whips his head to the girl on the counter, horror written all over his face, "Ishida-san, call 'Tsumu, right now!"

"Y-Yes!"

Turning his heel to chase his soulmate, Osamu finds no one in sight at the shop, the loud chimes of the store ringing across the walls.

"Akaashi-san?" He stands there, dumbfounded.

Akaashi pants, gripping on the plastic bag in his hand as he crosses the street, too flustered and frightened to check if there were no cars in the road. His hands are trembling in anxiety, and his teeth couldn't stop chattering inside his mouth. Cold sweat trickles down his spine, and the autumn breeze creeps through his coat. He spots Bokuto from the side of the gasoline station, his body resting against the car, his eyes fixated on his phone, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

Akaashi's eyes light up.

"Kōtarō—!"

_Beep!_

He freezes in the middle of the road, eyes widened, as he slowly turns his head to the right side.

"Oi! Watch the road!"

"Keiji!" Bokuto yells, shoving his phone down the pocket of his jeans. He sprints in the street, wrapping his arms around Akaashi's shoulders, "Are you okay?" He asks worriedly, eyeing his shell-shocked expression. Akaashi looks up at him with tears pricking his eyes, Bokuto's gaze softens.

"Get off the road!"

Akaashi snaps out of his bewilderment, blinking profusely, and bowing down to the driver that immediately slammed on the brakes when he was crossing the road absentmindedly.

"I-I'm sorry!" He exclaimed, tugging on Bokuto's wrist. With long strides to their car, Akaashi heavily breathes, rushing to the passenger side.

"Keiji? What's wrong?" Bokuto calls out, following his lover to his side.

Akaashi pulls the door handle, only to find the vehicle locked. He looks up at Bokuto with wide, watery eyes, "Kōtarō, unlock the door," he pleads, continuously pulling on the door handle.

Bokuto feels his chest tighten at the sight of his lover in distress. "Keiji, talk to me, what's wrong?" He asks again.

"Kōtarō, unlock the door, please," he begs, clenching his jaw.

Bokuto frowns, unable to handle seeing Akaashi like this. He places both of his hands on his shoulder, turning Akaashi to face him, and peering close to his face. "Keiji! What's wrong? What happened in the shop? Why are you getting all worked up?" He asks, brushing his left hand over his cheek.

"Kōtarō, I—"

"Akaashi-san!"

Both of their heads whip to the direction of the voice, and Akaashi could only feel panic rising in his system. His mouth falls agape, but no words come out.

Osamu spots his soulmate on the other side of the street, wrapped under the arms of another man. He knits his eyebrows, his mind suddenly going blank and disoriented. He places a hand over his hip and the other over his temple. Suddenly, another pang of striking pain over his tattoo hits him, causing him to writhe. But his eyes never left Akaashi, and he sees him squeezing his wrist with a glower and his chest erratically rising and falling.

Osamu connects the dots in his brain as the ache continues to stream through his veins.

"Akaashi-san! Aren't you going to talk to your soulmate?" He yells, catching a few wary stares from passersby. He isn't one to perform such acts like this in public, but he cannot let this chance slide when it is right in front of him.

Akaashi stares at him wide-eyed, his partner seems to whisper something in his ear, catching his attention and tilting his head to look up at him. Akaashi nods, and Osamu breathes through gritted teeth after feeling another sting from his wrist. His partner presses onto the car keys, rushing towards the driver's seat.

"Akaashi-san! I'm your soulmate! Please, let's talk!" He desperately cries again on the other side of the road, too afraid to lurch through the street and face the peculiar bonding from the two.

Akaashi spares a glance to his soulmate, before shaking his head in disbelief, and entering the car. With a few seconds that ticked by, they whizzed out of Osamu's sight.

Osamu knows it.

Miya Osamu knows that his soulmate, Akaashi, is in a fabricated relationship with a different partner.

And he could feel the jarring sting on his wrist, but he couldn't explain the tightening of his chest as he watches his soulmate run away from his hold.

* * *

Bokuto knows this time would come. 

They are both aware of it. 

But the universe didn't even flash any warning signs that this would occur right after they run away from Bokuto's soulmate. 

Akaashi breathes, shakily popping the painkiller in his mouth and chugging it down with chilled water. For the past thirty minutes on the trail again, they managed to eat in silence, mostly the rice balls that Akaashi ordered. They know the rice balls taste delightful, but for some reason, it left a bitter aftertaste in Akaashi's tongue. 

And he prays to the gods that Bokuto doesn't mention anything from the shop. They've both sat in silence for the past half hour now—he would love to keep it that way until they reach some sort of destination.

But he is fully aware that Bokuto wouldn't let this slip away. 

"Did you feel it?" Bokuto asks, almost in a whisper as he drives. 

Akaashi faces him, parting his lips as he tries to formulate the words in his head to find the right thing to say. But he's not sure if assuring him with white lies will do any good for their relationship, so he closes his mouth, turning to his lap. 

He fiddles with his fingers, eyes darting to the tattoo on his wrist. A minute passes by, and it feels like the longest one yet. He purses his lips, steadying his breathing. 

He gulps down a shaky gasp, "I did," he murmurs.

No one told him about it, Akaashi wasn't aware of it. He didn't bring up the question to Kuroo because he didn't realize it would be possible. He didn't know that even the slightest brush from one's soulmate would tug two individuals together, almost binding them in the inevitable string of fate.

Bokuto tightened his grip on the steering wheel, grinding his teeth together in frustration.

Akaashi's playlist then played Johannes Brahms' Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-Flat Major, OP. 83. He warily shoots a glance at the stereo system, wondering how the song got there when he's sure that the tracks that they were listening to just a minute ago were jazz.

"How does it feel now?" Bokuto asks.

"W-What? Now?" Akaashi stammers, blinking confusedly. Bokuto nods, "Yeah."

The ensemble from the song begins to chime in, matching the piano's volume, adding pressure to the tensioned atmosphere.

"My pain from my wrist is weakening—"

"No, I mean your heart."

Akaashi gulps the lump in his throat, the air becoming stifling with each pause that he takes. 

His heart? 

What does he mean by that?

Is there any difference?

Bokuto glances at him through the corner of his eyes, feigning courage by averting his scowl to the road. Akaashi's hand flies to his chest, his fingertips pressing over his heart, feeling its pace pick up unwaveringly. 

What is he supposed to feel?

"K-Kōtarō, what am I supposed to feel?" He carefully drawls.

"What does your heart tells you to feel?" Bokuto replies, his voice firm and his stare harden at the street. 

Akaashi shakes his head, furrowing his brows. 

If he was confused an hour ago, now he's gone astray. He never knew that meeting his other half would be this stressful—if he only knew, then he wouldn't have followed the advice of the man in the convenience store.

"Kōtarō," he begins, balling his fist to his side and darting his gaze to his lover and his lap. The song is turning into a gradual crescendo, "All of this. I don't understand."

"I don't either, Keiji!" Bokuto replies, a pitch higher. The concerto picks up its tempo, and the orchestra goes forte. Akaashi flinches at his sudden rise of tone, his jaw going slack in surprise. 

Because Bokuto never raises his voice at him, no matter how depleting their relationship is going. Never.

"What am I supposed to tell you? I'm clueless!" Akaashi retorts, his lips trembling in distress.

Bokuto clicks his tongue, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. Akaashi notices his watery eyes and his ragged breathing. He shakes his head in disbelief, "Is it hard to tell me what you feel when you met your soulmate?" He asks.

There was a brief pause between the two of them, and it only spurs Akaashi to wander in his mind. 

Bokuto huffs, "I just want you to be honest."

Akaashi whips his head towards him in shock, "Am I not truthful enough?" He replies, his tone still low but with forceful diction. "I told you, I have no idea what I am feeling!"

"How could you not, Keiji? That's unfair! When I met my soulmate, I told you what I felt that night."

"We're not the same, Kōtarō! That's why we're not—"

_Soulmates._

The pianist presses the same keys continuously five times before the song transitions to a calmer pace. 

He sees Bokuto freeze at his words, his body stiffening, and his eyes wide in shock.

Then, it dawns on him. 

Their breakdown is what the heavens desire for both of them. And this is the exact timing that the fates would pull their strings so they could shred their relationship to pieces. 

All it takes for their love affair to collapse is to float with the immense waves that destiny rained on them.

Akaashi bites the inside of his cheek, shutting off the stereo system, realizing that the song is mocking the adagio crumbling of their relationship.

He slowly closes his eyes, releasing a shaky breath, "Nothing's changed, Kōtarō," he begins, opening his eyes to face Bokuto. The car's acceleration is slowing at the red glow of the stoplight, "I'm still afraid."

Bokuto blinks, feeling his anger subside, and he sighs, resting his back to the seat. The creases between his brows relax as he shuts his eyes. He steadily breathes, facing Akaashi with a softer and apologetic gaze, threading his fingers through his curls. 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, Keiji," he says remorsefully, his thumb grazing over his cheek, "I was just—"

"Upset," Akaashi finishes, returning his warm smile and placing his hand on top of his larger ones, "I know, my love. I am too. I don't want to live like this."

And even though their touch barely does anything to the surroundings, they wouldn't deny the rapid beating of their hearts when they are together.

It's enough reason for them to continue trudging along. 

The stoplight turns green, and Bokuto pulls away, heading back to the steering wheel. Akaashi finds himself craving for his affection again.

"Where do you want to go, Keiji?" Bokuto asks, deliberately accelerating through the road. Akaashi hums, turning to the window. 

"Would you like to go to a temple?" He asks.

* * *

Not more than fifteen minutes, they arrived at the Ikuta shrine just before it closes. They parked the vehicle across the gate of the temple. Both of them walked side by side through the gates, fingers loosely intertwined, and marveling at the rich culture and view. They purified themselves by the spring near the entrance, before Bokuto pointed at a booth to their right, telling Akaashi that they should get protective charms.

Akaashi asked him what the charms would go against, and Bokuto replied with a shrug. 

They got two anyway. 

As they walk away from the booth with new charms in their pockets, Bokuto spots a black cat lounging on top of the stairs near the tower gate. 

"Hey, Keiji! Look! That cat resembles Kuroo!" He exclaimed to Akaashi, pointing at the cat with a wide grin. Akaashi smiles, "It does," he replies. Before he can ask Bokuto where to go next, he slips his hand away from him and rushes over to the cat, fishing his phone out of his pocket, and indiscreetly taking photos of the said subject.

Akaashi sighs, despite being the driver for almost nine hours, he is still exuberant enough to jump around. 

"Kōtarō, let's—"

The corner of his eyes catches an omikuji stall, a fortune-telling paper.

"... Go," he mutters.

He takes one last look at his boyfriend, noticing that he is too preoccupied with the cat. Then, he finds himself walking towards the two cylindrical containers, eyeing the characters plastered on the wooden front. He doesn't even necessarily believe in these kinds of stuff anymore, but soon enough, he slips a 100 yen coin from his pocket and inserting it in the box.

"It's been a while since I have done this anyway," he reasons with himself. He takes a number from the container, the number 58 printed on the paper. Akaashi studies the characters in hand, his fingers beginning to tremble in anticipation. Inhaling a deep breath, he reaches to the similar cylindrical container beside it and takes his omikuji out. 

He huffs and flips the omikuji. Scanning the paper, he looks through each sentence.

_"Lucky Number: 58_

_Aspect: One's fortune with concerns to love._

_Fortune: Uncertain good luck._

_The outcome may be unfavorable."_

His eyes widen at the result of his fortune. 

Uncertain good luck? 

What does that mean?

Does this pertain to Bokuto or his soulmate, Osamu?

He takes a peek at Bokuto, who seemed to be no longer distracted by the cat, but instead, he is typing on his phone. Presumably, he's texting Kuroo about the identical animal that Bokuto encountered.

Akaashi drops his stare to the paper again, reading through the same sentence repeatedly. 

But no matter how many times he skims over his fortune, he knows it wouldn't change. 

He purses his lips, walking towards the scaffolding, and tying the strip of paper around the thin metal bars—hoping that the uncertain fortune would not follow him back to Tokyo.

He rids the thoughts about the destiny that the omikuji placed on him, and proceeds to walk towards his boyfriend. 

Akaashi spots Bokuto approaching him with a slight pout, "Keiji, where did you go? You suddenly went out of my sight," he says as they stand next to each other. Akaashi releases a hearty laugh, "I believe it was you who wandered off," he replied.

Bokuto responded by huffing and slipping his fingers again in between his, loosely wrapping around his smaller hand. They trudge around the shrine, offering their prayers to the gods. 

And even though Akaashi is one to be skeptical, at this point, he can't help but want to believe in something. Especially at this crucial stage in their lives, where their future is at stake, along with their soulmates. 

He wants to trust that even though Bokuto won't give him the same rush as Osamu does with just a single stroke of his skin, that he will end up with him. 

And he prays ever so genuinely with tight clasps around his hands, that he spends the rest of his life with Bokuto, no matter the circumstances.

But even though he knows what he wants, something at the back of his mind still nags him for leaving Osamu puzzled. 

"Well, why did you want to go to the temple, Keiji?" Bokuto says, interrupting the silence as they walk down the steps. 

Akaashi ponders for a moment, "Are you familiar with Wakahirume, Kōtarō?" He asked.

" _Wahime?_ "

"Wakahirume."

Bokuto pauses, and Akaashi follows across him, carefully studying his features, "I don't. Who is she? Is she an important person?" 

Akaashi peeks over Bokuto's shoulder, observing the temple. 

"She is the Goddess of Fabric, Kōtarō. People associate this temple with her," Akaashi explains.

"Huh, fabric? Then that must mean..." Bokuto trails off.

Akaashi nods, hitching his eyeglasses with his free hand, "She is worshiped for bringing two people together," he says.

"Similar with the string of fate entwined together," Bokuto muses. 

They both stand in silence, with Bokuto's gaze trained to the pavement and Akaashi intently studying on Bokuto's reactions. 

As if a light bulb switches in his head, Bokuto beams, turning to Akaashi, "Keiji! Does that mean you prayed for us?!" He excitedly asks.

Akaashi purses his lips, slowly nodding. 

Bokuto tightens his grip around Akaashi's hand, his free hand pointing to his chest, "I prayed for us too!" He exclaims with a wide grin stretching on his face.

Akaashi smiles, "I'm glad you did."

But even so, something from the back of his mins nags him of Osamu Miya.

* * *

"Keiji, it's your turn to use the shower," Bokuto says, exiting the bathroom with a towel hanging over his shoulder. Droplets of water from his flat hair drips down his neck. He closes the door behind him, cocking an eyebrow at the unusual silence, "Keiji?" He calls out again to his boyfriend, who is zoning out on the edge of the bed with his back facing him. 

Bokuto grumbles at the familiar scent wafting through the air. 

He circles the queen-sized bed and finds Akaashi with a cigarette stick in between his fingers.

"Keiji," Bokuto groans, putting his hands over his hips. His towering figure is casting a shadow over Akaashi. Akaashi flickers his gaze upward, blinking at him blankly. "I thought you said wouldn't smoke again," Bokuto reminds, cocking an eyebrow at him and folding his arms against his chest. 

Akaashi brings the cigarette back to his mouth, inhaling the drug, "I'm sorry," he says unapologetically, exhausting the smoke with each word that rolls off his tongue. He averts his gaze towards the large windows in front of him, staring at the twilight sky. 

There was a brief pause between the two, and Bokuto sighs, plopping down next to him. 

Akaashi stubs the end of the cigarette on the ashtray sitting idly on top of the bedside drawer. Bokuto sees this as the signal to wrap his arms around his shoulders, pulling him close to his warmth. 

Akaashi exhales blissfully under his embrace, leaning against his pectorals. Droplets of water from Bokuto's hair lightly dribble over Akaashi's skin. They both stare at the nightfall, shades of baby pink, sparkling blue, and faded yellow paints the sky. 

Bokuto tucks the top of Akaashi's head under his chin, giving feathery kisses over his dark curls. 

"What are you worried about, Keiji?" Bokuto asks, his fingers lightly brushing on his arm. Akaashi remains silent, contemplating on whether to tell his lover about his troubles. 

He hums, "It's nothing."

"It's not just 'nothing,' Keiji. Who are you fooling here?" Bokuto replies with a light laugh. Akaashi could feel the vibrations from his throat and chest at the back of his head. 

He musters a half-hearted chuckle, "It seems I cannot get away from your perceptiveness as always."

"Well, you only smoke when you're worried, Keiji."

"It appears so."

Bokuto waits for Akaashi to express his troubles while his hands wander from his shoulders to his scalp, his fingertips threading through his hair comfortingly.

Akaashi sighs, "Kōtarō."

"Yeah?"

"Can you..." His jaw clenches and his claws over the fabric of his jeans, "Tell me about Misaki Hana?"

"Huh?" Bokuto drops his gaze to Akaashi, perplexed at his offer, "My soulmate?" 

"Yes."

"Eh? Why is that?" 

"I just... want to know more about you, I guess." 

"But nobody knows me more than you do already, Keiji," Bokuto says as-a-matter-of-factly, staring at him.

Akaashi looks at his lover through his eyelashes, his golden orbs piercing through his blue-green ones. "You know what they say, Kōtarō."

"What?"

"That if a person loves you enough, they'll take the time to understand your past," he states. And he swears he could see the glimmer passing through Bokuto's eyes as soon as he ended his sentence. 

He tears his gaze away from his boyfriend, fixating instead on the setting sky. 

After a short pause, Bokuto speaks, "Well, what do you want to know about her?"

Akaashi deliberates in his head what to ask. He has a thousand questions lingering in his head, what could he possibly question him?

"Do you not like her?" He begins with something easy.

"Like her enough to be with her?" Bokuto confirms.

"Yes."

Bokuto mulls over the question, carefully thinking through his words, "I admire her personality, but I don't like her enough to break up with an amazing person like you."

"Is that so?"

"Why do you sound like you don't believe me, Keiji?" He whines.

Akaashi suppresses his laughter, "I do believe you."

Bokuto groans for a second, "Then, what else do you want to ask me?"

"Does Misaki Hana know about us?"

Bokuto presses his lips together, nodding, "Yeah. I told you earlier that we talked about our relationship last night, right?"

"Yes. But you were out of the apartment just for 15 minutes."

"Yeah." 

"What did you talk about in that conversation?" Akaashi persists.

"How I won't follow the norms of the society just because Misaki and I are soulmates and that there will always be severe pain on our wrists from that point on. She got upset and almost cried, telling me how much she has waited for me, but I explained to her that I'm already in a relationship with you, and she seemed to understand that."

Akaashi falls silent, a million things running through his mind after Bokuto says those words. 

"Why did you only take 15 minutes from your time with her?" Akaashi asks.

And without any hesitation, Bokuto replies, "I didn't bother staying long, Keiji. I just had to see you."

Akaashi stiffens under his touch momentarily, but he warms again, snuggling closer to his chest. 

"I cannot leave you all alone in the apartment for way too long last night, Keiji," Bokuto continues, his tone softer, "You were unhappy, and you needed me. But I also had to talk to Misaki to clear the things in the air. So I told her to go to the coffee shop across our apartment."

Akaashi nods, drifting deeper in thought.

"I didn't need her, Keiji. I didn't want a tattoo to dictate my future. Because I already have you. My future is with you, and you only."

Akaashi didn't feel the need to talk anymore, and they sit there, albeit a tad uncomfortable, the cheap ventilation from the motel room, and the view of the nightfall is enough for the two of them.

 _"But this wouldn't suffice,"_ Akaashi thinks to himself. 

And so, he removes himself from his lover's embrace, facing Bokuto, whose face is perplexed at his sudden actions. He raises his tattooed hand at his eye-level, and with determination flashing in his expression, Akaashi speaks, "I'm going to my soulmate."

* * *

Akaashi adjusts the rearview mirror to his liking as he zooms away from the motel, the GPS telling him which direction he has to take to reach Onigiri Miya again. It's almost 6 in the evening, and he knows it might take him at least thirty to forty-five minutes to reach the shop—only if the store is still open at this hour.

If the man from the convenience store is right, that the establishment is full during rush hours, then he could barely make it in time.

He sighs to himself, playing his jazz vinyl playlist in the stereo system again, the vocal version of the song, Stardust by Hoagy Carmichael plays. The first few lines of the tune elicit a ghost of a smile from Akaashi, realizing how his situation right now could be related to the song. 

But he knows it's something he should not smile over, especially when he left Bokuto in their motel room all alone in pursuit of his soulmate. 

Of course, his plan only includes talking to Osamu that he is already committed to Bokuto, and he cannot afford to risk his relationship just for someone that the universe decided on.

And he insists on sticking to the plan until he leaves that very store after a couple of minutes. 

Akaashi adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, gulping down the lump forming on his throat. Leaving Bokuto all alone in the motel room isn't the most sensible idea that he has, but he knows that's the most reasonable in this situation.

He is going to share—hopefully, it's not a lengthy—conversation with his soulmate, and bringing Bokuto along would only overwhelm Osamu further. He does not know what personality Osamu acquires, nor does he know how he will react to the news that he has a boyfriend already.

Well, Akaashi's pretty sure that Osamu already knows since he spotted the two of them right across his own Onigiri shop. 

But he can't just leave Osamu questioning about his soulmate for the rest of his life—Akaashi isn't some sort of scum bastard. 

Despite hating on the ideas of soulmates and the fates intertwining their threads, he at least has some respect for the other party. 

After all, they are just victims of destiny's cruelty, right?

Despite those explanations, it doesn't make it easier to leave Bokuto behind at the motel. 

At first, Bokuto was appalled to the idea, adamant that Akaashi will not go to Osamu. If he does insist on going, then Bokuto has to leave too.

They went from opposing one's idea to a quick screaming fit, and finally reasoning out with one another. It was tough to get through Bokuto, and he couldn't blame him since, after all, Akaashi's request is a bit demanding.

It's not like Bokuto doesn't trust his partner, no, it's not that. He has faith that Akaashi will get back to him at the motel, snuggling in his arms under the toasty sheets. 

But when Akaashi challenges the gods themselves, then going back home to Bokuto seems too farfetched. And that's when faith crumbles into pieces—the very foundation ought to shake since they are testing destiny itself.

Akaashi sighs to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. He hopes that his omikuji will somehow turn into good fortune.

* * *

_"Dude, what the hell, Daichi and I were in the middle of a video call—"_

"Kuroo, I need your help."

_"What?"_

"It's about Keiji," Bokuto says over the line, pacing back and forth through the small expanse of the motel room. 

_"Akaashi? Again? Aren't you guys together right now?"_

Bokuto shakes his head, "No, we're not."

 _"But you guys were on a road trip_ — _"_

"We met his soulmate on the way." He sits down on the edge of the bed, fingers massaging his temple.

 _"Oh, shit,"_ Kuroo says over the line. "Yeah," Bokuto breathes, attempting to laugh it off. 

_"What's going on? Tell me."_

Bokuto threads his fingers through his damp hair, brushing the locks away from his eyes. "Keiji just left to go talk to his soulmate," Bokuto states.

 _"Akaashi w-went_ —?! _And you let him?!"_

"I told him not to go! If he was going, then I have to go too!"

There was a brief pause until Kuroo sighs over the line, Bokuto could see him shaking his head in disbelief, _"But he insisted on going alone anyway, huh?"_

"Yeah," he sulks, his back hunching, and his hands rubbing against the sheets as if he was searching for a presence sitting beside him.

_"Why did Akaashi go to his soulmate? And why alone?"_

"So that his soulmate wouldn't get overwhelmed with my presence as Keiji's boyfriend," his voice barely audible.

_"That's it?"_

"He said that he wants his soulmate to understand our situation as much as possible. You know how it's a hard time for both of us."

Kuroo didn't speak for a minute, and Bokuto mulls over the silence. 

_"Well, what do you want to hear from me, big guy? It seems to me that you've got questions running around in your head."_

Bokuto buries his face in his hands, grunting. Kuroo stays silent on the other line, waiting for his friend to come to his senses. But Bokuto couldn't reconnect the wires in his brain, his mind zoning in on Akaashi and the possibility that he might end up in the arms of his soulmate instead.

Kuroo sighs, _"Don't you trust him?"_

Bokuto straightens his body, eyes wide at Kuroo's words. Shock courses through his system, "Oi! Of course, I do! We've been together since high school!" He retorts.

_"Then what are you so worried about?"_

Bokuto presses his lips together, his eyes training to the thick clouds on the midnight blue sky. "If he's leaving now, then he gets nothing," he says, almost in a whisper.

_"Nothing?"_

"He's risking our relationship for his soulmate to understand," he states, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. 

_"Ah."_

"You know that fate isn't very kind to us."

_"I am aware, yes."_

"And we don't feel the same things you and Dai-chan feel."

Kuroo pauses on the other line, hesitant to affirm his statement, _"...Yeah,"_ he breathily replies.

"Can you tell me what being with a soulmate feels like?" Bokuto asks, glancing at the cigarette butt stubbed on the ashtray by the bedside table longingly.

There are sounds of shuffling on the other line while Kuroo remains silent as if pondering over Bokuto's question, a soft creak reverberates, and he sighs, _"Being with a soulmate is..."_ He clears his throat, _"Magical."_

Bokuto frowns, wanting to tell Kuroo that he feels the same way when he's with Akaashi. But he's aware that Kuroo means more than what he just verbalized. 

_"Since Daichi is still in Miyagi, and he's busy with work and processing his documents to stay in Tokyo instead, we tend to spend our free time over video chat. But even so, just connecting with him feels..."_ Kuroo hums, formulating the words in his brain, " _different."_

Kuroo shakes his head, _"Man, just tell me if you want me to stop—"_

"No, it's okay. I-I want to learn more," Bokuto replies.

Kuroo inhales, followed by a deep exhale, _"Being with your soulmate, it feels like you're drifting in space—wandering into thousands of cosmos and nebulas. And when you touch, it's like the stars contain too much matter and bursts into a supernova, outshining galaxies and radiating more energy than you can imagine. Everything drowns out, the only significant thing in your life at that moment will be your soulmate. And you can feel the loose thread from the inside of you sew together with your soulmate. Suddenly,"_ he takes a sharp intake of breath, _"Suddenly, you realize the long freezing winter nights aren't as nerve-wracking as it was. The faint salty smell of summer with girls on the beach and boys surfing while you're alone in the hammock doesn't feel lonely anymore. The bucket of candies in the chilly autumn doesn't get wasted away because you have someone to share it with that isn't your neighbor's kid or your sibling. And slowly, y-you,"_ he takes a shaky puff, _"You realize that the cherry blossoms in the spring look so much better when you're walking through the path with your soulmate's hand intertwined against yours."_

Silence filled the emptiness. 

The soft whirring of the ceiling fan echoed throughout the expanse, the faint noises from the adjacent room filtered through the thin plaster walls. Bokuto's scowl deepened. 

His fingernails are digging his flesh through his balled fists and his teeth gritting in both frustration and confusion.

He understands what Kuroo says, but what he cannot comprehend is how he directs it to his soulmate. Because with those flowery words and metaphors that Kuroo mentioned, he couldn't envision Misaki Hana under a freezing winter day.

He can't see sharing his candy with her on a tiring Halloween evening with horror movies playing in the background.

He couldn't imagine being with her on a sweltering sunny day on the beach with a surfboard in hand. 

And he can't visualize Misaki Hana as he walks through the trail of cherry blossoms.

He feels all of these things with Akaashi. 

And although he couldn't feel those sparks, the floating into the galaxy with Akaashi, he knows that seeing him smile and laugh equates to every star known to exist.

 _"But Bokuto,"_ Kuroo speaks again, snapping him out of his thoughts.

_"When a bright star fails from bursting into a supernova, it could turn into a black hole."_

Bokuto lights up upon hearing his words, "Does that mean...?"

 _"I've heard of this before, but I haven't seen or read anyone experiencing this. Maybe the occurrence of a star failing to rupture into a supernova and turning into a black hole is really less than 0.1%,"_ Kuroo explains. 

Bokuto drops his phone to the side, his lips parting as he trails his gaze to the bedside drawer, catching the sight of the blue protective charm sitting beside the ashtray.

 _"But Bokuto, if you stray through the galaxy without any precaution, you could slip into the abyss, and you wouldn't know the answer to the enigma of a different side of the universe,"_ Kuroo's muffled voice sounded through the room. And Bokuto heard it, but his phone remained by his side. He reaches to the blue protective charm on the table, grazing over the embroidery.

He heard Kuroo's warning, but Bokuto knows being afraid is the last thing that he should be—because he knows that in a heartbeat, he would fly through the abyss just to reach Akaashi on the other side.

* * *

"You haven't found your soulmate yet?" 

Akaashi flinches at the choice of words. Nevertheless, he nodded.

"My, Keiji, you're not getting any younger every day, do you? You ought to search for your soulmate sometime soon. You know your father, and I are eager to meet your soulmate," his mother comments, slicing through a piece of meat delicately without even turning to look at her son. 

Akaashi swallows the lump forming in his throat, nodding, and shooting a glance to his wristwatch. 

_"This family dinner is a bad idea, just as I thought."_ He thinks to himself, picking up the knife and fork again.

"We always wonder what your soulmate is like, don't we, darling?" His mother says, turning to her husband sitting beside her. His father wipes the grease on the corner of his lips with the napkin, nodding.

"I hope your partner is a respectable character," he states, picking up the glass from the table and swirling the wine around. 

His mother heartily laughs, "I do hope so too! You know, unlike your—"

Akaashi clears his throat, interrupting his mother's sentence halfway, "Father, I've heard that the company's sales skyrocketed this season?" He says, changing the topic hurriedly. 

His father slowly sips on the brick red wine, placing the glass back down to the table, his eyes trail to his son, "We did."

Akaashi hitches his eyeglasses, "Is there any particular reason why the sales went through the roof this season?" He asks, feigning interest just to avoid the topic of soulmates.

His father clicks his tongue, "More and more kids are choosing not to be with their soulmates, that's why."

Akaashi's body stiffens in his seat, and his breath catches in his throat. "Really?" He asks, urging his father to continue.

"Keiji, you are aware that our pharmaceutical company is one of the leading brands in the nation's market presently, right?" His mother comments, wiping her fingers with the napkin. Akaashi carefully nods, "And it's all because of the painkillers that your father's team has developed," she finishes, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Akaashi darts his gaze to his parents warily, then focuses on his meal. 

Dinners like this, stuck in a stifling private dining room in an overpriced restaurant, with his conformist parents, will always be Akaashi's worst nightmare in his waking days. With every second that he spends under the suffocating tension of his parents, he feels like the possibility of going mad heightens. 

He picks the wine glass from the table, sloshing the liquid around the rims before placing it between his lips. The blend of syrupy and bitter taste slithering down his throat, and he could almost feel the thorn growing in his chest being plucked out as he downs the whole glass.

His mother gives him a concerned stare at the sight of the clear glass. "Keiji, you do not drink wine that quick," she said, worry lacing her voice.

"A-Ah. I apologize," he comments, facing his food again. 

His mother huffs, but before she can express her uneasiness again, his father speaks, "Keiji, when do you plan on breaking up with your boyfriend?"

_Du-doom._

"I-I beg your pardon?" Akaashi stammers, his brows furrowing at the sudden question his father throws at him. 

"When do you plan on breaking up with your boyfriend? What's his name again?" 

"I think it's Bokuto Kōtarō-kun, dear," his mother replies.

"Ah, yes. I heard that Bokuto-kun's joining a volleyball team in the First Division of the nation's V. League, am I right?" His father asks.

"A-Ah. Yes, father. Where did you hear that? The news doesn't come out yet until tomorrow," Akaashi asks, dropping his cutlery on the plate and diving his fingers underneath the table. 

His father adjusts his seat, "A co-worker of mine spotted him at the drugstore early in the morning purchasing our painkillers. Do you remember that co-worker? I tagged him along to dinner, and you brought Bokuto-kun along too."

"Oh."

Akaashi averts his gaze to his lap, his trembling fingers twiddling against each other. 

His father picks up the wine glass again, observing the dark shade of red, "I presume that he's met his soulmate already?" 

Akaashi gulps nervously, "Y-Yes. At the train station in Shibuya."

His father hums, taking a quick sip from the wine and eyeing his son from the corner of his eyes. "And? What do you intend to do? Now that he has met his soulmate?" 

Akaashi couldn't escape the intensifying stare of his father, his fingers picking on each other, "We're going to talk about it tonight since he also plans to talk to his soulmate later this evening." 

His father nods in reply, placing down the glass on the table and takes the last bite on the food, "I believe the two of you have reached the stage where you part ways with him, right?" 

And Akaashi finds his jaw locked, his mouth going dry, and his heart picking up its pace. He couldn't muster a reply, and he couldn't find the words to defend his relationship. So he ends up nodding and listening to whatever his parents tell of him. 

On the ride back home to his apartment, Akaashi insists he takes a taxi instead of his father driving them across town. His father reluctantly agrees, seeing him off to a cab.

Inside the car, he stifles his sobs by biting on his wrist, cursing on the tattoo, and the initials OM inked on his skin.

On that same evening, he decides to run away with Bokuto the following day. 

* * *

The bell chimes reverberate against the walls, "Excuse me."

"I'm sorry, but we're closed—" Osamu's words are interrupted upon meeting blue-green eyes at the entrance, his jaw falling slack. "Would you mind sparing a few minutes, Miya-san?" Akaashi asks, staring blankly at the male. 

" _Miya-_ san?" Another voice pops out from the kitchen, and a blond version of Osamu peeks out from the curtain. Akaashi's eyes slightly widen, darting his gaze to his soulmate and the blond male scowling at him. 

"'Tsumu, get inside," Osamu orders, pointing to the kitchen. "What? Isn't that 'yer soulmate?" His frown deepens, and he was about to stomp his way towards the restaurant until his brother gives him a threatening stare. 

Atsumu raises his hands defensively, waving them, "Alright! Chill, geez," he rolls his eyes, giving him a quick look, before huffing and entering back the kitchen. 

Osamu drops his cap to the counter, making his way to Akaashi, "Please take a seat," he says, motioning to the wooden chair beside him. 

"Ah, thank you," Akaashi replies, pulling the chair and taking a seat across Osamu. "Was that your brother?" He asks, hitching his eyeglasses up. 

Osamu nods, "We're twins."

"No wonder you two look alike," Akaashi comments.

Osamu swallows thickly, "Would you like something to eat?" 

Akaashi shakes his head dismissively "I'm good. I won't take long."

Osamu's lips tug downward, it's barely visible, but Akaashi noticed the drop of his mood, "Why not?" 

Akaashi shoots a glance to the counter, clearing his throat, he spoke, "As a matter of fact, a glass of water would be nice."

His soulmate nods, standing up and his chair skidding across the wooden flooring. Akaashi takes a quick look at his wristwatch, noting that he has to be out in fifteen minutes. 

_"I'm doing this for the serenity of my relationship with Kōtarō,"_ he silently reminds himself.

Osamu places the glass of cold water on the wooden surface, snapping Akaashi out of his thoughts.

"Ah, thank you. I apologize for the disturbance," Akaashi says, taking a sip from the water. Osamu shakes his head, "I don't mind. I've been waiting a long time for you."

Akaashi nearly spits out the drink in surprise, his composure rattled by his simple words. He places the glass to the table calmly, laughing half-heartedly, "I believe I was only out of your sight for almost three hours, Miya-san," Akaashi says.

Osamu's lips form a thin line, his stormy gray eyes piercing through his. 

There was a brief pause between the two until Osamu speaks, "Seven years old."

Akaashi furrows his brows, "Pardon?"

"My twin and I were both seven when our tattoos showed up on our skin," 

"Is that so?"

"He found his soulmate when we were in high school. Until then, I patiently waited for you to arrive."

Akaashi could only nod in reply. What is he supposed to respond to that? 

He decided to pause the conversation.

Osamu watched him gingerly, taking note of the way Akaashi fiddles with his fingers on the table. 

"I apologize, but I'm already in a committed relationship with someone for years," he speaks, staring into his eyes. 

Osamu exhales, his eyes fluttering shut, and nods. He sweeps his hair to the side and opens his eyes, "So, you're living in denial all these years?"

Akaashi blinked at him, confusedly, "Denial?"

"Does his soulmate know?"

" _His?_ "

"Your lover's soulmate."

"Of course. And this is also the reason why I am here. To inform you that I cannot be with you."

He scoffs, a slight frown furrowing his brow, "You think the two of you will actually last?"

Akaashi scowls, but before he can retort, Osamu waves his hands in front of him, "Wait, I take that back. I apologize, that was rude of me," he says. Akaashi blinks confusedly at him, surprised that he's one to apologize. 

Osamu takes steadied breaths, "Will you please let me understand this whole situation?" He says, "At least make it fair in between the two of us."

Akaashi presses his lips together, nodding, "Of course."

And he did his best to explain the situation, to let his soulmate know that he's in love with Bokuto and he cannot possibly break that bond just because of a tattoo. But with every accidental brush of Osamu's leg against his under the table, he finds his resolve waver.

He's not sure if it's because of the contact of his skin against his, or perhaps the warm glow of the restaurant accentuating each feature of his face perfectly. His gray hair swept to the side, and the typhoon in his eyes dissolves into calmer ripples of silver as they continue into the night.

Akaashi also takes note of the way Osamu offers him a meal when he hears the growling of his stomach. He rejects it at first, telling him that he should go because Bokuto is waiting for him. 

However, Osamu is persistent, stating that the least thing he could do is to feed his soulmate once in his life. Akaashi couldn't deny that proposal since it will be their last interaction after all.

He decided to stay a bit longer and give his soulmate a chance.

They both eat while sharing the same impending conversation. Akaashi observes that Osamu does not have any eating habits that he dislikes. He also seems to be enjoying every bite of the meal.

He also notices that Osamu is careful not to intrude on Akaashi's privacy, asking permission before entering a sensitive topic and the meticulous usage of his words. 

Akaashi likes that about him.

He also recognizes the way Osamu fishes his phone out of his pocket after its first vibration. Setting it aside on top of the table and never picking it up again despite the continuous surge of messages. 

Additionally, Akaashi didn't see any red flags waving on top of Osamu's head whenever he would speak or ask questions. Neither did he show any body language that resembles an abuser or a manipulator.

It seems like the universe matched him with a decent human being, with an immense passion for food, and indescribable love for his family. 

He's someone that his parents would love and immediately accept in the family. 

He's someone that his father would boast around with his colleagues. 

His mother would also bring Osamu to every family gathering and let him use the kitchen freely, even assisting him. 

Akaashi could also see a blurry image of him drifting along the trail of the cherry blossoms with his hand intertwined with his.

He laughs at the joke that he told him about his brother, their hands brushing against each other. And he could feel the exhilarated tug of his chest that makes his heart swell ten times its size.

But somehow, he couldn't help but feel like he's forgotten something important.

* * *

"Pick it up, pick it up," Bokuto chants to himself as he paces the motel room, chewing off his fingernails anxiously.

 _"The number you dialed is busy at the moment. Please try your call la_ —"

He cuts off the call, contacting Akaashi again. 

He squeezes the phone in between his ear and shoulder, successive ringing penetrating his eardrums as he snatches the jacket hanging on the chair, and the protective charm on the bedside table.

A sting pokes on his wrist, and he grits his teeth in annoyance. 

Swinging open the door to leave the motel, he's cutting off his 30th call for the past three hours.

* * *

"You know we're rooting for the both of you, right?" Konoha asks.

"Yup!"

Konoha gives a wary glance at Sarukui, "But what will you do when you meet your soulmate?" 

"We'll think about that problem when we get there!" Bokuto chirps. "Right, Akaashi?"

"Sure, Bokuto-san."

"But you know you can't avoid fate, right?" Konoha persists.

"We won't know until we try!"

But Bokuto _finally_ knows. 

He slowly realizes that fate will _never_ give them a chance. Even if he relentlessly prays to Wakahirume, on his knees, with tears streaming down his face—in the dead of night, praying to the Goddess of Fabric that she gives Akaashi back to him in his arms.

* * *

"Kōtarō, I'm sorry I was late—!"

Empty.

"Kōtarō?" Akaashi calls, his voice cracking. 

"Kōtarō, this is not funny," he pleads.

He pads through the small motel room, eyes scanning each corner. Their bags are still by the bed, and his wallet is resting by the drawer; Bokuto shouldn't have gone back to Tokyo, nor did he go out to buy dinner.

His heart rattles wildly against his chest at each step that he takes. 

He yanks the curtains from the small balcony door. 

Searches under the bed.

He shoves open the bathroom door.

Empty.

" _Shit._ "

* * *

"I'm sorry, Miya-san. I cannot do this, after all," Akaashi says wistfully, averting his gaze to the side. 

Osamu swallows the lump on his throat, reluctantly nodding. "...Okay."

"Kōtarō may not be my soulmate, but he's still the person I want to spend the rest of my life with," he explains.

A long dreading silence fills the air, and Akaashi couldn't face his piercing stormy eyes again. He bites the inside of his cheek, remembering the 30 missed calls from his lover the minute he checked his device earlier.

Osamu sighs, "I guess it was foolish of me to believe that you would change your mind tonight."

He whisks his head to Osamu. 

"I mean, even if the crow shifts into white, I cannot do anything if I am not the one you yearn for, is that right?"

Akaashi could feel the pierce in his wrist again, his heart aching at his words, "... Right, Miya-san."

* * *

"Kōtarō! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Akaashi exclaims, taking long strides towards his boyfriend, concern lacing his voice. "What are you doing here? Let's go. It's cold out here. You'll get sick—!"

"Keiji."

The firmness in his voice catches him off guard, halting in his pace. He blinks confusedly.

"Y-Yes?" He says, taking small steps towards Bokuto, who is sitting on the staircase by the gates of the Ikuta Shrine. 

Bokuto trains his stare to his shoes, shuffling over the pavement, "Do you ever think we should just stop doing this?"

His breathing catches in his throat, and his fingers tremble by his sides. He balls his fists, biting his bottom lip, and stabilizing his breathing. He releases a shaky gasp, relaxing his muscles, and taking short strides towards his lover.

"No. No, I don't," Akaashi says, sitting beside him. He ignores the poking pain in his wrist, knowing that his heart is carrying more weight compared to the needles in his skin.

Bokuto scoots over to the side, leaving a foot of space between them. Akaashi is startled by his movement, lips slightly parting as he gazes at his lover remorsefully. 

"You're a bad liar," Bokuto replies, placing both of his hands on top of his knees, his studying the tattoo on his skin. "You asked me that question earlier. Of course, you have thought about it." His voice is laced with malice and bitterness, hinting an edge to his tongue.

Akaashi couldn't even deny that. He forms his lips into a thin line, staring ahead at the rows of shops that are closed just outside the shrine gates. 

For some reason, he hoped at least one of the establishments to light up and bring comfort to them aside from the depressing streetlamps hovering them.

Alas, he knew better. 

"But you're asking me the same question," Akaashi says, looking at him, "Does that mean you're thinking of it too?"

Bokuto didn't hesitate, he nods. 

Akaashi isn't surprised.

They stayed still, from the seconds that tick into minutes. Their eyes laid somewhere other than their lover—from the amber leaves flitting through along with the surges of wind to the distant blurry city lights. 

Akaashi attempts to rewinds the tape of his memory of this day. How could their relationship take a turn for the worst in less than 24 hours?

Beginning the day by running away from their responsibilities and parents by the same car that Akaashi's folks gave to him, then the harrowing pain that Bokuto experiences with each mile he strays from his soulmate. Thinking a stopover at a convenience store would help them, Akaashi's forage for food went from instant meals to supporting a local business that turns out to be his soulmate's.

And things went downhill from there.

One, almost getting run over by a car.

Two, he feels the agonizing ache from his wrist for the first time in his life upon meeting his soulmate.

Three, getting in an argument with his lover.

Four, thinking that leaving Bokuto would be the best idea while he talks to his soulmate about the situation—not knowing that the fates would do anything to pull them apart.

Five, the burning and reducing of their relationship into ashes may occur tonight.

Akaashi's vision suddenly blurs and taking in shallow breaths to compose himself. He redirects his stare to his lap, his fingernails clawing at the fabric of his jeans disappointingly.

When Bokuto talked to his soulmate, all he could think about was coming back into Akaashi's arms. Contrary to him, Akaashi spent almost three hours in his soulmate's shop, conversing about the most mundane things.

He can't believe himself. 

He feels pathetic, beyond ridiculous, and other than that, he feels unworthy of Bokuto's love.

His chest and throat tighten, and his mouth is going dry from the worries plaguing his thoughts. 

The universe truly is wicked for not giving him a chance for a happy ending.

"Just to remind you, I love you."

_What?_

He whisks his head to Bokuto, his eyes wandering to the various shades of bright lights from the metropolis. 

"You... still do?" Akaashi blankly mutters, his eyes staring wide at him. 

Bokuto nods.

He slowly turns his head back to his lap, boring his vision to the lines on his jeans. 

He releases a shaky breath.

Before he knows it, violent sobs of disappointment and distress surge through him, his tears are dribbling from his chin and through his neck, almost drenching his shirt. 

Without a second to waste, Bokuto wraps his arm around Akaashi's shoulders, pulling him close to his chest again, clearing the space between them, and leaning his head on his pectorals. 

Akaashi claws on his jeans, his jaw clenching in an attempt to quiet down his bawling. Bokuto pulls his eyeglasses away from him, setting it on the stair below them, and he cradles Akaashi into serenity. 

Bokuto sinks his nose into Akaashi's tufts of hair, kissing the top of his head fervently, "I'm sorry for worrying. I love you," he mutters.

Akaashi shakes his head, burying his face in his hands, "I'm sorry. The fates almost got me. I'm so sorry, Kōtarō," he hiccups in between breaths.

They both ignore the quick prickles of pain in their wrists, too preoccupied with their emotional outburst.

"Hey, what did you tell me again?" Bokuto reminds, there was slight humor in his tone.

Akaashi pulls away from his embrace, studying his face. Due to his blurry eyesight, he peers closer with squinted eyes, "What?" He asks.

"We're the protagonists of the world, aren't we?" He says, flashing him a toothy grin despite the evident exhaustion plastered all over it. Akaashi's heart swells, skyrocketing into the night sky. He bites his bottom lip to prevent letting out a loud gasp. His eyes well up with tears again, almost blurring everything except for his lover sitting in front of him.

He sinks his fingers into Bokuto's flat gray and white hair, stroking through the wisps. Bokuto wraps a hand on top of Akaashi's tattooed wrist, pulling his palm to his jaw. He peers close to Akaashi's face, wiping the tear stains from his cheek, "Don't be sad anymore, Keiji," he says. 

Akaashi sniffles, nodding.

"The fates didn't get you. You're still here with me, right? You don't have to be sad anymore."

Akaashi shakes his head, "I was just scared that you left me."

Bokuto frowns, "Why would you think that? That's not very nice."

Akaashi merely shrugs, unsure of what answer to give. Bokuto sighs, "I told you before, right? We're going to last!" He assures, tousling his hair. Akaashi lightly chuckles at his gesture, until another prodding pain causes him to grimace.

"Does it hurt?" Bokuto asks quietly. Akaashi helplessly nods, "It stings a lot."

"Mine, too," he replies.

There was a brief pause between the two of them, the clouds above them clearing and the moonlight peeking through the sparse mass. Akaashi brushes his thumb over Bokuto's cheek while the latter snuggles closer. Bokuto glances at the cursive lines tattooed on both their wrists, almost frowning at them. 

He turns his gaze back to Akaashi's ocean eyes, the waves calming under the touch of his lover.

"Our wrists may hurt forever, and we may depend on painkillers, Kōtarō," Akaashi stated, wandering into his golden optics.

"So?"

"That's not good for you, star athlete Bokuto Kōtarō," Akaashi almost reprimands, eliciting a chuckle from Bokuto. 

"I know," he replies.

He glances at the wrists again before turning to Akaashi, "But we'll take on the world, right?" 

Akaashi smiles, "Of course. Only with you, Kōtarō."

"And only with you, Keiji."

The moonlight casts over them.

Then both of them produce a sharp intake of breaths. 

The sound of two stars colliding. 

Millions of thorns prick their flesh, eliciting a loud gasp from the two of them. 

Bokuto panics, slipping his hand away from his lover's wrist. He's afraid that he may grip on him hard, the pricking too unbearable. But Akaashi presses the palm of his hand against Bokuto, interlacing their fingers together. 

Bokuto's lips slightly part, eyes softening at his boyfriend's initiative. Then a million more thorns puncture against their skin, both their eyes screwing shut to focus on the pain. 

Their breathing is fluctuating, and their knuckles turning white from the pressure against their hands. 

"Did you bring any painkillers, Keiji?" Bokuto grunts through gritted teeth.

He shakes his head, wincing, "All of our painkillers are in the motel."

Bokuto clicks his tongue, feeling another set of pins and needles piercing through their tattoos. 

"Why is this happening to us at the same time?" Bokuto asks. 

"I don't have an answer, Kōtarō."

The agony prolonged for another full minute, the pricking and puncturing infested their skins. Bokuto seethes, gripping on Akaashi's hand but careful enough not to break his bones. Akaashi bites the inside of his cheek, heavily breathing as he tries to ignore the shoots of punctures continuously piercing his flesh.

And Akaashi acknowledges Bokuto's words, that they'll take on the world even with their wrists aching—as long as it's with him.

Silence. 

Empty.

Akaashi flutters his eyes open. 

The pain suddenly vanished without any transitioning. 

Both their hands relax from the disappearance of the torment, their eyes boring into each other in shock. 

"What? Is that some sort of consequence for not being together with our soulmates?" Bokuto asks.

"I'm not sure," Akaashi mutters. 

They both sigh in relief, drifting their eyes closed and letting their intertwined hands fall to Bokuto's lap. He leans his forehead against Akaashi's, and his breath is fanning his cheeks. 

"We'll take on the world," Bokuto mumbles. 

"Of course, Kōtarō."

_Maybe the occurrence of a star failing to rupture into a supernova and turning into a black hole is really less than 0.1%._

Bokuto flies open his eyes, removing himself away from Akaashi, and raising his wrist to eye-level.

"Kōtarō? What's wrong?" Akaashi furrows his brows in worry, laying his hands flat on his thighs.

"Our wrists."

"Huh?"

Akaashi darts his gaze to their intertwined hands, and his jaw goes slack.

The cursive characters 'OM' isn't there anymore, neither the 'MH' on Bokuto's. 

Only the scar of the tattoo remains—along with the bold letters of their initials exchanging on their skin. They stared at the new tattoos and scars wide-eyed, too bewildered to verbalize any words. Akaashi didn't realize this day would come, but how? Just a sharp sting to their wrists, then suddenly a scar and a new pair of tattoo evolved from their flesh? It didn't make any sense, why would the fates give them a chance?

Bokuto whips his head to the temple behind them, eyes marveling over the shrine. He mumbles incoherently.

"What?" Akaashi asks, following his gaze.

"Wakahirume answered our prayers," he replies, his voice clearer.

Akaashi blinks at him dumbfounded as Bokuto stares wide-eyed at the temple, his eyes darting back and forth to the new tattoos on their wrist. 

As if lightning struck Akaashi, his body stiffens upon realization.

"Kōtarō, you..." He mutters, his gaze slowly dropping to his wrist, "You prayed for us? Is that why you're here?" 

Bokuto nods, "Yup!" He says, popping the p, "Of course I did!" He turns to Akaashi, "Don't you think its cool though that Wakahirume-san answered that, though?" He grins widely, admiring the new tattoo and scar on his wrist. "I like this tattoo better too."

Akaashi hides the surprise in his face, the idea that the new ink on his skin is his boyfriend's initials puzzles him, "Why? Because it's more manly?" Akaashi asks.

Bokuto shakes his head, his finger tracing over his scar, and to his tattoo, he turns his stare to Akaashi, "Because it has your initials in it, Keiji! This tattoo looks better than my previous one." 

Before Akaashi could reply, he takes a glimpse of a blue glint slipping outside Bokuto's hoodie pockets. 

_Ah, the protective charm_ , Akaashi thought. 

Bokuto takes both of his hands, catching Akaashi off guard, "I think Wakahirume likes me," he says.

Akaashi cocks a brow, "Why do you think so?"

"Because it only took me one prayer, and now it's answered! I'm beginning to think that this is our world, and some people just live in it. Plus, we're facing the storm side by side all this time. Don't you think so too?" 

And for the first time since their relationship has started, the answer is crystal-clear right in front of him, "Yeah," he begins, admiring the letters 'BK' on his skin, along with 'AK' on his lover's, "I think so too."

"— _But if the gods favor your charm,_

_Proving perpetual love with the unknown,_

_Thus, the curves will transform_

_Matching and bold;_

_And no longer on one's own."_

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is heavily inspired by Take on the World by You Me at Six. I hope everyone likes this one!  
> Crossposted on my quotev account.  
> Find me on twitter: @kaiaced


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